


Regulation 2233: Don't Ever Spike The Captain's Drink.

by xancrish



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Bones, BAMF Kirk, Captain Kirk - Freeform, Clever! Scott, Cocky! Kirk, Comedy, Confident! Kirk, Cupcake - Freeform, Dubious Science, Flirt! Kirk, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mission Fic, Oblivious Jim, Orion Pirates, Pre-Slash, Romantic Comedy, Slash, Smart! Kirk, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1609427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xancrish/pseuds/xancrish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the same ship, another day. Only the Captain has no memory of ever having had a Vulcan on board. Especially not someone tall, lithe and so damn sexy like this one. </p><p>Wait did I just say 'sexy'? </p><p>Hilarity ensues.</p><p>[Set a few weeks after Star Trek Into Darkness story].</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regulation 2233: Don't Ever Spike The Captain's Drink.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to warn you, my physics knowledge is not cool. Nor is my biology. In fact, I have very less academic knowledge of any science outside of Star Trek Fandom. So if I have made a major factual error (and unbelievably so), forgive me. And don't hesitate to point it out.

“One day, Jim, one day. You lasted one day,” came the highly irritated voice of Dr. Leonard McCoy. “That is all it took you to land yourself in the Medbay”

Captain James T. Kirk, blinked open his eyes with difficulty. He closed it soon, cringing at the bright white lights. The loud voice of his friend wasn't helping either.

“Uggh,” said Jim, propping himself up on his elbows, “Can you keep your voice down a bit please? Better yet, don't talk. And kill the lights, while you are at it. It is messing with my head. I'm fighting off the worst hangover ever. I mean _ever. ”_

“You say that every time you get drunk, Jim,” said Bones condescendingly, ignoring his friend. “What the hell did you drink, anyway? I mean, you are Jim Kirk, the only genius level repeat offender of the midwest! If _you_ passed out, it must be practically lethal for the rest of us.”

“I don't remember,” said Jim, massaging his head and frowning. Bones did not seem to be listening to him at all. Instead the doctor was running a bioscanner up and down Jim's face, in a way that always irritated him. He swatted the intruding hand away, fully expecting Bones to chide him, but the doctor moved away. He connected the bioscanner to the monitor beside Jim's biobed, frowning as the information was fed to it.

“Wait till the hobgoblin hears this. I'm not sure he will let you keep your command for long, if it goes on like this. Better you pull your act together, Captain.”

“Hobgoblin, wh-?”

McCoy promptly cut off his patient, “I'm taking your blood. Running a few tests.”

“What?” deadpanned Jim, “Bones! I got drunk! Not poisoned!”

“It's not a request, Captain. Or should I cite regulations, now?” McCoy said, threateningly, looking away from his monitor, and glaring at his patient. “And, until you recover, you are bound to the bed, of course.”

“Like hell I am!” said Jim, and threw his covers aside. He sprang out from the bed and landed firmly on his feet. Except it wobbled like crazy. He felt the world tilt to the side, dangerously, but it didn't last long. Not wasting a second more, he headed towards the exit.

“Dammit Jim! I'm your CMO, and if I say you are unfit-

“Look here Bones, I know you are concerned about my health and all that, but this is childish! I got drunk on duty, lost my inhibitions for a bit, so what? It won't happen again. I promise,” said Kirk, standing in the threshold. One foot out and ready to run, at the slightest sign of pursuance.

“But, we don't know what you took!” said McCoy, putting his hands on his hips, “I know you, and you would never have had anything voluntarily knowing that it will compromise your thinking. It must have been something that you didn't think was too strong and since that is your area of expertise, we can safely assume that, you drank something you thought you knew the effects of, but only you didn't. Someone must has slipped you something, you shouldn't have drunk. We don't know what its full effects are. It could be allergies, it could make you impotent, or worse, it could even be contagious, for all I know! I can't clear you for duty unless I know for sure what you took and that it won't affect your commandeering. In other word, the fate of the crew!” By the time he was finished the doctor was practically yelling at his Captain.

"So what's your solution? I appoint myself a food-taster? You can be my Official Food-Taster, next time!”

“ _Jim!”_ growled the doctor.

“I swear on my ship, Bones. If I so much as have one tiny little evil thought in my head or any where else in my body, I'll safely deposit myself in your hands. Until then!” Captain James T. Kirk gave the doctor an astute salute, pivoted and all but ran from the Medbay.

* * *

 “Kaptin on the bridge,” came the sweet voice of young Chekov. As usual he was reporting to duty on bare-feet.

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov,” said Jim, nodding at his youngest crew-member, “Status report, Mr. Sulu.”

His helmsman turned around and greeted him with a confused look, “Captain?”

“Mr. Sulu?” asked Jim, raising his eyebrows, “Is there a problem?”

“No, Sir,” said the helmsman, glancing at someone towards Jim's back. Then, seeming to recover from his little lapse which made the captain wonder if his helmsman was sleepy, he said, “All systems functioning normally, Sir. Nothing unusual. Nothing to report.”

“Miss Uhura?”

“All communication links have been silent, Sir.”

Someone handed him his coffee, hot and black, just the way he liked it. Without turning, the captain relaxed back on his chair, thanking his yeoman, “Thank you, Miss Rand. Your service is as precise as it is timely. I appreciate it.” Taking a sip from his hot mug, Jim hummed approvingly.

Every crew-member on he bridge turned to look at their Captain.

Jim raised an eyebrow. “What? I like my coffee, gotta problem?”

Chekov raised his hand, timidly.

“At ease, Chekov.” said Jim, although suspecting that everyone besides him was in on some kind of joke.

“What we would like to say, Mizter Kaptin,” he said, hesitatingly. “That it's Mr. Spock, who gawe you your coffee. Not Miz Rand.”

Face crunching in confusion, “Mr. Spock?” said Jim, turning to look beside him and was startled by what he saw. Sure enough, there he was, a tall, lithe Vulcan, pointy ears and wiry muscles and all that. _Very_ attractive, thought Jim, his eyes raking every inch of the creature's form.

Only, the said creature was someone he had never met in his life.

“Captain, I believe my actions or words have somehow upset you,” said the Vulcan, his left eyebrow twitching, “I cannot fathom any other plausible reason for you to behave in a way that is indicative of denying my existence on this ship.”

“Who _is_ this guy?” Jim was giggling. He placed his coffee on his holder, careful not to slip it on the controls of his chair, while he continued to laugh. “He even talks like a robot!” He glanced at his helmsman, and his navigator. Even his CCO. Nobody was laughing with him.

“Captain,” continued the robot, his left eyebrow still raised, “It would be prudent on both our parts if we confront the issue rather than ignoring it altogether. I do not think this it is an effective way of solving a problem. I'm requesting this so we can function as a crew without a triviality caused by misunderstanding coming in the way of our mission's function. I also believe I have the right to understand what it is that I have committed that has offended you. ”

Jim found it a little difficult to follow what the Vulcan was saying, especially since Jim's brain was buzzing with the possible ways he could deal with situation in the mean time, but when he did, he couldn't help but admire, how convincing the Vulcan sounded with his bluff. Whoever said Vulcan's didn't lie?

“Okay, as amusing as this is” said the Captain, smiling at the stranger and opening his communication link to the Security Station, “Cupcake?”

“ _Captain_ ,” came the annoyed voice of his security officer. “I have told you -”

“Yeah, sorry, sorry, Hendroff. Your service is needed here. Two more officers, too, please. I'm not very glad to say you have been lazying off at your job, Hendroff. Onto the bridge, now. Kirk Out.”

“Right away, Sir!” he said, ending the communication link.

Everyone on the bridge, including the strange Vulcan was looking at him like he had sprouted wings, and was asking them to believe he was God. Nobody said anything though, which was good, because Jim still hadn't figured out why the rest of the crew-members didn't seem to realize that there was a complete stranger on board. He knew every crew-member, he could recite all their names by heart, all seven hundred and fifty nine of them. And “Spock” wasn't one of them. What was worse was, his bridge officers, were acting like, _he_ should know him.

It was only seconds later that Hendroff and two other security officers, rushed in from the turbolift.

“I require a full report on my table, this evening, explaining why our security was compromised. On the Alpha shift, too. And the reason better be very good, Hendroff! Luck must be on your side, because the intruder doesn't seem to be hostile. Yet. Just... _strange._ ”

Hendroff looked around, and so did the two other officers. All three of them checked their PADD, looking for a red spot.

“Captain?” said Hendroff, rolling his shoulder, reeking of frustration, “Is this intruder supposed to be invisible?”

“What are you _on_ about, Cupcake?” said Jim, sliding off his chair and hands on his hips, “Your man is right there. Pointy, over there. Can't you see him? He's three-dimensional and opaque. Very visible. Now take him to suitable quarters! By that I mean confine him, if you didn't get that part already.”

Lt. Uhura had had enough. Pressing an icon on her panel, she spoke, “Doctor, I think it is high time you made it to the bridge.” Glancing at the her Captain, exasperatedly, who was looking back at her, with almost the same expression she said, “I think our Captain might have hit his head somewhere. And, it's not funny. Really.”

“What did you do Jim?” came the voice of one extremely irritated CMO. “Be there in a second, Miss Uhura!”

* * *

Jim paced along the length of the ready room. All his senior officers were present, and all of them were looking at him like he had lost his marbles. Which, going by what Bones, also his best friend and someone whom he trusted with his life and more, was convincing him, was a distinct reality. Jim was finding it harder and harder to ignore his gut and listen to his head.

“So, I wake up one fine day, and forget my Science Officer?”

“And the First Officer of this ship,” corrected Uhuru. Of all the people in the room, the Chief Communications Officer seemed to be taking Jim's amnesia personally.

Even more than Bones, thought Jim. That's strange. Then, something clicked.

“Uhura, are you _together_ with this guy – this, this robot?” he asked, pointing at the stoic Vulcan, almost on the brink of hysteria. Uhura was the one girl who had always refused him, on more than several occasions, to the point that Jim had started to think of her as asexual. And, now –

“You _scoun_ – ”

The Vulcan interrupted whatever Uhura was trying to say, and Jim knew from experience that it couldn't have been anything good. “Miss Uhura. Let us remember that the _Captain_ is undergoing a medical problem and that he may not be in full control of his inhibitions.”

Uhura gave Jim a nasty glare, “He still manages to be a jerk. With or without his senses.”

Jim rolled his eyes, at that. 

“Okay, children, enough bickering, as entertaining as it is,” said McCoy, looking up from his PADD. He had been running all sort of tests on his Captain. Well, not _all._ His stubborn friend had refused to step into the Medbay, and had asked the doctor to conduct whatever test was necessary, in the Ready Room. Captain's Orders, of course. “My reports show nothing serious. Nothing to be worried about, anyway. Hormonal activity is a little bit wacky. But this is Jim we are taking about.”

“No need to embarrass me in front of my officers, doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Bones, not even bothering to look up, “Testosterone's are acting a bit weird. And a few others.”

“Is the activity more than there should be?” inquired 'Spock', his left eyebrow lifting. Jim was starting to think, it was the only facial expression the Vulcan was capable of. It was sort of cute. 

The doctor shook his head, and looked at Jim, confused, “No actually, it is on the low.”

Jim had no idea what the doctor, nor the Vulcan were talking about.

“Which means what, exactly?” quipped the Captain. 

“It means you are becoming an asexual.”

Jim blinked.

 “Bullshit.”

The doctor didn't have time to respond. There was a strong jerk. Everyone was thrown off their chairs, ad the room pulsed with red light. A siren went off.

Jim rose and rushed to the bridge, his officers trailing behind him.

“Mr. Sulu, I went away for ten minutes! What have you done to my ship!”

“Captain, I don't know how this happened,” said Sulu, hunching over his consoles, “but we were forced out of warp, Sir. Five Orion Raider ships. We are surrounded.”

Jim settled on his chair and spat out, “Shields up, Mr. Chekov.”

“Already done, Sir.”

“Kirk to engineering, report!”

“Captain, the warp core, Sir. It is not functioning. Some sort of override.”

“What can you do about it, Mr. Scott?”

“I'm looking at it, Sir. Still need a minute or two.”

“Uhura?”

“Trying to hail communications from the ship. No response, Sir.”

Jim waited. The whole bridge was sitting at attention, the sirens continued to wail. But nothing happened. They were surrounded, but no attacks. No threats. No blackmails. 

“What do they _want_ from us?” shouted Jim, frustrated. They need to make a move. He couldn't otherwise.

 _Orions_ , thought Jim, mind racing, _Orions, what did Orions want other than sex? Oh, just about everything? Everything that did not belong to them?_

Orions were sneaky. The more time you gave them, the more in danger they were. Jim had to do something, and quickly.

“Chekov, weapons?”

“Weapons on standby. Ready to launch at command, Sir”

“Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Spock.”

The Vulcan looked startled at having been addressed by the Captain. Jim couldn't help but smile. Did the Vulcan really think he would go against his guts?

“Since we have not been in any hostile situations against the Orion people in recent times, I can assume only one reason to be the cause for our current predicament. There is eighty-nine point seven six percent possibility that they are here to, for the lack of better word, 'raid' our ship.”

Jim laughed heartily. He liked this guy.

“Which is exactly why I feel like I'm bullying kids, using torpedoes on five little Raiders.”

“If by that you mean, it is unwise to launch weapons on these pirates, then I agree with you Captain. It is obvious that if we were to engage them in a hostile attack, they would lose completely. It will be more...appropriate...for us to urge them to come for a peaceful negotiation, whatever their needs might be.”

“Agreed and noted,” said Jim, looking at his first officer approvingly for speaking whatever was hi. “But I don't think they want to talk to us. Do they Miss. Uhura?”

“No, Captain. I have even tried their backcountry dialect, besides Standard. Still no response. ”

“Chekov?”

“On standby, Sir.”

“Lock them in position, Mr. Chekov. Ms. Uhura, keep the links open. Mr. Chekov, _now_.”

“On three, Sir.”

Jim looked at the communication's station, his eyes straining with the concentration. He didn't want to do this. He prayed the Orion's were as smart as they were sexually active.

Three.

Still no communication. Not even a blip.

“Captain, I think it would be unwise to -”

Two.

“I know, Mr. Spock,” he turned to his first officer and gave him a smile, “I'm still James T. Kirk. I might not remember you. But you should remember who I am.”

The Vulcan looked startled. The only other expression on his face, that Jim has ever seen.

One.

“Captain!” shrieked Uhura, standing up, in her excitement.

“Mr. Chekov!”

“Already, sir,” said the grinning boy, his eyebrows waggling, knowingly . “Weapons decommissioned, Sir”

“They are hailing us, Sir,” said Uhura, breathlessly.

“Onto the viewscreen,” said Jim, nodding in front of him.

There was a flicker, then Jim saw her. Red hair, green skin. He thought she looked like Gaila. Or that girl aboard Enterprise on her maiden voyage. Or that girl whom he had gotten drunk with the other day in the space station.

“James T. Kirk,” spat the humanoid, her hair flying all about her. Misguided, arrogant, stupid but still _sexy,_ thought Jim. “You are still on that chair!”

Jim made a show of looking at his command chair, “Well, what is wrong with my chair. Seems to be working just fine?”

“You think this is funny, human!”

“You bringing my ship out of warp and surrounding us with your Raiders? Trying to steal from my ship?” asked Jim, cocking his brows, “Yes! I find it extremely funny! Hilarious, in fact! If you hadn't noticed _Enterprise_ is a Constitution-class starship. You are dwarfed by us twenty times over. And that is just physically. What gave you the extremely stupid idea that you could even possibly threaten us? I feel like I'm going to swat flies.”

The Orion woman roared like she was on fire.

How dramatic, thought Jim. He knew he wouldn't be thinking or behaving so well if she were actually on-board this ship. He also wondered, why she hadn't done exactly that. It would have been easier to mesmerizes  the Captain under her thrall, and _then_ try to steal from the ship. A far more practical plan, if he said so himself. After all, he was James T. Kirk.

But then, there was the Vulcan.

“You wouldn't be talking so cocky, if you knew that your ship has already fallen prey to us, Captain Kirk,” said the Orion, laughing now.

“What do you mean?” Jim sat straighter. Everyone sat up a little straighter.

“Bridge to Engineering,” said Spock beside him. “Report.”

“Commander Spock, there seems ta be some sorta Graviton frequency emanating from de five ships surrounding us. Ita locked us into position, Sir. The warp core is safe, only she won't function. Its kina like when ye have five magnets strategically placed on all sides of an iron bar–”

“I understand, Mr. Scott. Spock Out."

The Orion woman laughed again. “See Jimmy boy? You can't go anywhere. Not unless you let me in there. Also,” she grinned, dangerously, “how's your head, darling?”

Jim raised his eyebrows, his eyes narrowing with irritation. “Uhura, that will be all.”

The green humanoid, disappeared from the screen.

“Mr. Spock?”

“We can safely presume that your amnesia was caused by this very woman. Have you been in contact with her recently, Captain?”

“I don't know,” Jim thought doubtfully. “There was this woman, green and red, three days back. I drank with her, but I can't be sure. I really can't remember faces, you know what I mean?”

“No, Captain,” said Spock, and continued to look at him expectantly.

“Well, it could be her. But what would she gain by alienating us both?”

“A situation of extreme disagreement, perhaps?”

“What, you mean like a fight?” asked Jim, “But I don't work like that!”

“Actually, you do, Jim,” piped in Bones, “Remember how you launched yourself on the poor Commander, when he wouldn't agree with your suggestion? This was on the very first day you met him. Well, of course, you don't. But take my word for it. You don't like people who don't agree with you. No. Not really.”

Jim would have argued, but this wasn't the time and place for it. “What I mean is,” he said instead, gesturing the space between himself and his first office, “We are not having a “disagreement” now, are we?”

“What a wonder that is,” deadpanned the doctor, “But you are right. I don't really understand the Orion woman's motive, either.”

“Spock?”

“I'm similarly confused, Captain.”

“Kirk to Engineering,” said Jim, beyond exasperated. They were sitting on their thumbs, and discussing Orion psychology. He needed some action, dammit. “Report!”

“Captain, you need to shooway those green giants. That's the only way this is gonna work. We are caught in their net.”

“Is there nothing you can do? I'm not very keen on blasting away these people, Scotty. Even if they _are_ pirates. We need an alternative. Anything, Scotty." 

There was a moment of silence.

"One thing, Sir. But its not from me side.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“We need a way to interrupt the frequencies, Sir. Five ships of theirs, five of our own. Steer it in 'em direction and the graviton will pull it towards the Orion's wee-ships. If maneuvered right, the shuttles can go under the belly of the greenie's ships and we can beam them back up when its a safe distance away. The frequency will be interrupted long enough for us to go into warp-drive. We don hafta waste our photons. No one gets hurt. But of course sir, it gotta be done right, ye should know all about it.”

Jim had stopped listening when Scotty said 'five'. He knew the rest of what his CEO would say. And of course, he knew it had to be done right. Five shuttles released exactly at the same time, not giving the ship a chance to tilt to a side thereby disrupting the course set on warp-drive.

Jim cast a glance towards his first officer, who acceded the plan. 

“Kirk to Shuttlebay 5, 19, 33, 47 and 61. Get ready to launch shuttlecrafts on auto-pilot. On my command.”

“On Standby, Sir,” came the voice from shuttle bay.

"Mr. Chekov, map the routes for the shuttles. You heard what Scotty said, you know what needs to be done.”

 “Aye-aye, Captain," smiled the kid, happy to get to work at last. 

 “And, get the transporter pad ready for a guest.”

“Guest, Captain?” asked Spock, his left eyebrow at work again.

“Yes, Mr. Spock,” said Jim, giving him a smile, “A lady's wish should never go unfulfilled. Besides, you _do_ want to cure me, don't you?”

The Captain didn't wait for an answer.

“Uhura, hail them. Now.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“So you wanna come aboard, sweet heart?” purred Jim, his smile turning into a leer as the green woman appeared on screen. “Chekov, if you will.”

The Orion woman disappeared from the screen in a flame of yellow lights. Snapping his communicator to the shuttle-bay control station, he ordered his shuttles to go do their work.

“Mr. Sulu, ready to warp?”

“Maneuvering thrusters. Impulse engines at your command, Sir.”

“Scotty!”

“She's waiting for your word, captain! ”

“Now, Mr. Sulu, get us out of here.”

* * *

“Mr. Spock, if I may have word?”

They were walking through the hallway. The excitement had died down when the Orion woman was taken safely into custody.

“Captain,” nodded his first officer.

“I was thinking,” said Jim, standing a tad bit closer to the Vulcan than was strictly necessary, “That we work swell as a team.”

There went the left eyebrow again.

“Indeed, Captain,” said Spock, “Those very words have already been expressed about our unique….camaraderie. But, I’m afraid, you would not remember it.”

“That’s alright,” said Jim, commanding his baby-blues to do their mojo. They settled on his first officer’s lips. Thin and narrow, always so rigid. What could he do to pump them up a little? “I was thinking, why don’t we, you know, improvise on our _camaraderie_ and grab a drink? Anything you like.”

The Vulcan didn’t say anything. Not so much as the left-eyebrow twitch.

That didn’t put Jim down in anyway. In fact, he put his hands on the Vulcan’s shoulder, casually, moving his thumb, caressing the nape of his neck. “Or we could do whatever’s on your mind,” he said, his voice dipping, leaning in, suggestively.

The skin under his fingers warmed a rude shade of green. So did his first officer’s cheek.

At last, some expression other than the bloody brow twitch.

“Captain,”  said the Vulcan, his tone still neutral, but Jim could have sworn he saw his lips tremble. “I believe, your stance which is seventy-nine percent closer than where you would normally stand, the presence of your hand on my neck and the change in the decibels of your voice are all indicative of the fact that you are flirting with me.”

“Very good, Mr. Spock,” said Jim, more amused than put off. “Ten points to Team Vulcan.”

“Captain, may I also remind you that, you have lost all memories of every instance you have shared with me.”

“You should know I always follow my gut, Mr. Spock.”

“I could mean harm to you, Jim. You don’t know me.”

“And, you should also know, my gut is always right, Spock.” There was a slight twitch of lips, and Jim _knew_ that it was a 'Vulcan smile'.

“So is that yes, Mr. Spock?” smiled Jin, winningly.

And then, the Vulcan _did_ smile.

Jim felt his heart flutter.

“Yes, Captain.”

Jim stole a quick kiss from his first officer.  Nothing big or anything. Just a small peck. But the impending green blush was too adorable even for words.

Whistling to himself, Jim pivoted smartly and strolled back to his quarters.

“I will let you know the when and the where,” he said over his shoulder, not turning to look back.

May be, he felt a little flustered himself. But that didn't mean he had to let the Vulcan know about his....indisposition.

He needn't have worried about any indisposition. Because he couldn't have walked twenty paces when suddenly the world spun around him, tilted dangerously, and everything went black.

* * *

When he opened his eyes next, Leonard McCoy was in his face. No, seriously, he was literally in his face.

“Dude,” whined Jim, “get away from me, man. I can smell your stink.”

“Jim, do you know who I am?” asked the doctor. Jim wasn't sure he was playing at sarcasm or not.

“Of course, I know you, you dunderhead.”

The doctor sighed, and then pointed at the Vulcan beside him. “Do you know who this is?”

Jim let out an exasperated sound. “What are you _on_ about? Next you are gonna ask 'Jim, do you know who you are?'”

“Jim, I'm serious.”

“Yeah, well, he's _only_ the one guy whom I can safely assume will say 'no' to whatever I have to say, without ever listening to what I have to say. Is that an accurate enough explanation?”

McCoy looked taken aback for a second. Then, chuckled, “Commander, I believe his memory has been restored.”

“Wait - what memory?” asked Jim, confused.

“It's a long story, Jimboy. Some other time. I'm too exhausted now. It's the second time you blacked out in the same day, after all. And people got jobs here, man. You got a job. Clear off, now.”

Saying that, Bones shuffled off, leaving the Captain and his first officer alone.

Spock didn't say anything. He merely looked on, as if knowing that Jim had something to say.

Well, Jim didn't have anything to say, actually.

But –

"Wait!” said Jim, in a total undignified tone, “Did I – did I kiss you?!”

Spock looked amused. And smug.  Jim wanted to murder him.

“Yes, Captain. I believe you did.”

As heat spread Jim's cheeks, he wished he could faint at will. He closed his eyes and denied the world existed.

* * *

Jim's communicator bleeped. 

“Jim, it's me,” came the voice of his CMO.

“Bones, its bloody ten. I need to get some sleep, dude.” Jim was about to cut the link off.

“Wait, don't you want to know what the memory-loss was all about?”

Jim could feel his cheeks warm. “No, actually I don't want to know anything about it. In fact, it would be better if you don't even mention it.”

A strange noise came from the other side of the communicator. Was Bones laughing?

“Bones!”

“It's too hilarious, Jim. I have to tell you. I can't go to sleep, otherwise.”

“Well, isn't this fun,” sighed the irritated captain, “Fine, go on.”

“The drug is not a drug at all. Apparently it is sort of a virus, of unknown origin – she won't tell me were it is from – is very, very impressive. Usually I don't approve anything that messes with a human body, you know me, but this one is just hilarious -”

“Cut to the chase.”

“Well, its like this. In layman's terms, the drug latches on to the human's nervous system, taps on to the person's chemical and hormonal activity, observes it. For three days, apparently, going by what she said. After that, gauging by whatever it has “read” in the nervous system, it starts to eliminate the memory or rather holds it aside for a short period. The memories will all be of the object which causes the highest level of activity in your brain. The object could be say, something like a constitution-class ship. _If_ it were the _Enterprise_ , you had had the hots for, that is. Which happens to be what the green giants were aiming at, actually. For you to forget everything relating to commandeering your ship.”

“And, I didn't forget my command lessons.” Jim asked, going for nonchalance, but he wasn't stupid. And, this was Bones, we are talking about.

“Yes, my dear Jimmy boy. Because you have the hots for one green blooded hobgoblin.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom. Please leave a word. I would really love to know what you guys think. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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